I don't own the Harry Potter series and don't claim to. This is just a piece of fanfiction, not intended to maliciously infringe copyright or written to make any money. Will be removed on request.
Boiling Point
"D'you see the way that new Weasley hangs around Potter?"
Percy flicked his eyes away from the text in front of him as the voices drew closer, and settled nearby. He recognised them as belonging to three Ravenclaws from his own year: Ernest Dickson, the second-best OWL student in the school (after himself, of course) and his two sidekicks Patrick McIntyre and Daniel Gordon. The latter were not quite the most intelligent in the school, are were usually found hovering around Ernest like the remnants of a stink bomb. He was sitting near the shore of the lake, leaning against a thick tree-trunk. After class, he had gotten elbow-deep inside his newest-hand-me-down textbook, getting to grips with the finer points of the history of trolls. However, the sound of his own surname had wrenched him out of the text.
"Heh, hangs around him like a limpet, he does, Ern," Patrick said.
"Yeah, heh heh... Wait, what's a limpet?" Daniel asked.
Percy raised an eyebrow when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone being smacked on the back of the head.
"It doesn't matter. Ugh, it makes me sick the way those two get on. They're inseparable. I'd bet you a Galleon that Potter's giving Weasley one every night."
"Aww, gross!" Patrick cried.
Percy shook his head. Idiots, he thought, and stopped any very disturbing thoughts of such things forming in his mind's eye.
"Giving him one what?" Daniel asked.
"Gordon, you moron. I mean that Potter's a fudge-packer."
The silence told Percy that Daniel was looking as gormless as usual.
"What?" He said eventually.
"Weasley takes deliveries up the back."
There was more silence. Percy rolled his eyes.
"They're fairies."
There was even more silence, broken at length by a frustrated grunt from Ernest.
"They're gay!"
"...together?" Daniel asked.
"Yes! My God, Dan. How did you ever get into Ravenclaw?"
"The Sorting Hat put me in here..." Daniel said.
Ernest huffed out a sharp breath, and Percy felt the thump when the other boy leant back against the same tree.
"Anyway. Weasley has got to be Potter's little arse-buddy. Why else would Potter let something as useless as a Weasley hang around with him? There's none of those types in our year. I know that for sure because Prissy Weasley hasn't even got any friends in his own house. You see him trailing around after Oliver Wood sometimes, but he's a Quidditch player. There are no Quidditch players who are like that."
"Like what?" Daniel asked.
"GAY!" Ernest shouted.
"I have had enough of this."
Percy wrenched himself to his feet, throwing down his precious book, and rounded on the group of students on the other side of the tree. Ernest leapt to his feet; the other two followed his lead. Ernest's brows came together furiously, and he opened his mouth. But before he could get a word out, Percy began the rant he had been internally packing away beside his reactions to the twins' jokes and jibes, usually so very well contained.
"I cannot, CANNOT, sit here and listen to any more of this – this – utter rubbish! Even if my brother and Mister Potter were involved in such a way as you are insinuating – which is neither confirmed nor denied by myself, as we do not talk about such things – it would be absolutely none of your business! Your diatribe shows nothing more than your own closed-mindedness, and the sheer depth of your ignorance for matters alien to yourselves."
Percy huffed out a breath in satisfaction as he watched the colour drain from Patrick and Daniel's faces. When the two realised that Ernest had not been so affected, they crossed their arms and did their best to seem menacing. Ernest took a few steps forward and drew his wand.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Another of Arthur Weasley's numerous offspring. Where's the mother today, Prissy? Off down to St Mungo's to have another brat? Your father just can't keep it in his trousers, can he?"
"I fail to see what relevance this has to our discussion."
"Our discussion? You just butted into a private conversation, Weasel."
Ernest lunged forward with his wand and pulled Percy's tie from underneath his jumper. Percy rolled his eyes and stepped backwards. In the corner of his eye he saw a group of boys from Hufflepuff glance in their direction. However, they did not linger. One of them was holding a pink disk Percy recognised as what his father called a 'frizz-bee'. They were likely off to play with it before it was confiscated.
"Really, Dickson," he said as he returned his attention to the matter at hand. "One would have thought you would have grown out of such childishness," he said, and tucked the tie back in.
"Oh, listen to this boys," Ernest said with a sneer. "'One would have thought.' Give it up, Weasley. Everyone knows your family is as common as a Hufflepuff tart."
It was probably a good thing that the Hufflepuffs had moved on so promptly.
"Again, I fail to see the relevance," Percy said, keeping a firm hold on his rising temper.
"'Ahye fail to see rrrrrrelevance!'" Ernest said, making a grand bow.
Patrick and Daniel chortled, and Ernest straightened up. A few Gryffindor girls who had been passing by had slowed down. Percy knew their faces, but not their names. They were pointing over at him and sharing puzzled glances. Hopefully they would just move along like the others. Ernest shook his head and sneered at Percy again, before spitting harshly at his feet. One of the girls brought her hand to her mouth. Several other students nearby turned their attention towards them, but Percy was no longer paying attention to them. He snapped his gaze from his feet to Ernest's face and back again. His heart began to thump so hard he could hear it in his ears, and he balled his hands into fists, squeezing them until they were white. He could feel his face growing redder by the second, and his vision began to turn red too.
"Why don't you do everyone a favour, Weasel, and crawl back into your mother's rotten womb before she brings any more half-dead newborns into the world. None of you Weasleys have ever amounted to anything anyway. Take your father, for example. Wasting his life on muggle rubbish."
Suddenly Percy's temper hit its boiling point, and he gritted his teeth.
"What's the matter, Pris? Got no retort? The perfect prefect Percy Weasley lost for words?"
"I have just one word for you," Percy said, and stepped forward.
"And what would that be?" Ernest asked, squaring up to Percy.
In a flash, Percy had retracted his fist, and brought it smashing into Ernest's face. A shocked 'ooh' went up from the gathering crowd, and Ernest fell backwards onto the parched grass with a wail, clutching at his face. Patrick and Daniel stared at Percy with wide eyes and open mouths. Percy gritted his teeth again, this time in shock. What did I just do?! Oh, there goes the head-boy-ship! He glanced around at the students gathered around them, most looking shocked, but with a few enraged Ravenclaws being held back by friends from other houses.
"By dose!" Ernest cried. "He's boken by dose! You idiots, helb me ub!"
Patrick and Daniel scrambled over to their fallen companion and wrenched him to his feet. Percy brought his face back to composure and stood with his arms by his sides, looking only at Ernest.
"Get by wand!"
Daniel acquiesced, and Ernest turned it on himself, mending his nose with a spell. Percy couldn't help but be momentarily jealous that the Ravenclaw could perform it successfully.. The spell did nothing for the blood that was caked over his upper lip and chin. He wrinkled his nose tentatively, crossing his eyes to try and get a look at it, before he snarled again.
"Right, Weasel. I'm not about to start a fight with you in full view of everyone, not with the chance of losing my prefect badge or tarnishing my chance at being Head Boy next year – which I should walk into now that you've ruined your chances. However, you're going to come with us now, or else I'll make sure that even your mother won't recognise you after I've finished with you, understood?"
Percy stood still, rooted to the spot. If he went with them, they would surely beat him to a bloody pulp. If he didn't, then he would most likely get the same or worse, but when he didn't know it was coming. Oh, Weasley, you idiot. Why did you have to descend to the level of these ruffians? He straightened his back a little more, and nodded.
"All right. I'll come," he said calmly, although his heart was in his throat.
"Good choice."
He nodded at Daniel and Patrick, who flanked Percy on either side. Daniel glared up at him – he was several inches smaller than the tall Weasley – and poked him in the ribs.
"Move. We're going to the astronomy tower."
Percy took in a shallow breath and began to walk, the two Ravenclaws close beside him. He could hear Ernest dispelling the crowd behind them.
"Oh, no, it's nothing, really. You know those Weasleys – idiots to a one. We're going to go talk it over – oh, no, no. Don't tell Flitwick. We Ravenclaws don't need teachers to sort out our problems..."
When they reached the astronomy tower, they took Percy onto the off-limits area in the open air. Daniel and Patrick each grabbed one of Percy's arms and spun him around. They slammed him back against the thick stone wall beside the door. The sudden pain in his back winded him momentarily. Ernest walked towards them casually in the growing darkness. A brisk wind was blowing from the north, bringing a sharp bite to the air that hadn't been present down at the lake.
"Get his wand," Ernest said.
Daniel pulled open the left side of Percy's heavy over-robe, and Patrick pulled the wand from one of his belt loops. He glanced at Ernest for further direction.
"Get rid of it," Ernest said.
Patrick smiled at him threateningly, and strode over to the parapets. With a final look back at Percy, he dropped the wand over the edge. Percy struggled against Daniel's grasp, but to no avail. The Ravenclaw might not have been as tall, but he seemed to be double Percy's strength.
"Right, Weasley," Ernest said, clasping his hands behind his back and walking closer. "You made a big mistake when you punched me, but a bigger one in coming here. You really are an idiot."
Partick had returned to Percy's side and had grabbed his arm again. Without further comment, Ernest brought a swift fist to Percy's abdomen, and showered him with punches as he was held, helpless. Great bursts of pain exploded like fireworks as Ernest rained blows down on him. He yelped hoarsely as he was kicked in the stomach. He tried to double over, but Daniel and Patrick held firm. His glasses, already askew, fell from his face. He heard the lenses shatter.
"Weasley scum," Ernest said through gritted teeth as he punched Percy square on the jaw. "Thinking you're brilliant, beating me in every exam. You're nothing!"
Percy's head rolled as stars danced in front of his eyes. He tasted blood on his lips, and the pain in his head weighed on his eyelids like ten-ton weights. Each blow was another note made in an already-full journal of pain, and he tried his hardest not to cry out loud, biting his lip so hard he broke the skin.
Eventually, Ernest backed off, breathless, and wiped sweat from his brow.
"C'mon," he said. "I think he's learned his lesson."
Daniel and Patrick threw him to the ground. The cold, hard stones struck every one of his new wounds, and he spluttered against the blood that began to pool around his mouth.
"Don't cross me again, Weasley. And don't even think about reporting me. I have at least two good witnesses who'll say you punched me first. You have none to say I laid a finger on you."
Percy winced as he felt a warm glob of spit strike his nose, and lay still on the stones as he listened to the three boys' footsteps grow fainter, before they disappeared inside. The wind whipped around his fallen body, chilling each of his fingers until he felt that they would fall off. He lay for what seemed like hours, unable to get up, and unsure of what to do when he did. I can't let anyone know about this. I was in the wrong. I'm sure someone's told McGonagall – or worse, Dumbledore! I'm ruined...
He heard the door slam open, and his name being called sharply. More than one set of footsteps came crashing towards him, and he couldn't help but feel relief as Oliver Wood's dulcet tones washed over him like gentle waves.
"Percy! What in the name of good grief happened to you?"
Percy yelped as he was helped into a sitting position by two sets of hands, neither of which belonged to Oliver. He blinked hard several times to try and get the familiar figure to come into focus, but to no avail. It was only when a piece of cold metal was pressed into one of his hands that he remembered his glasses were gone. He slowly raised his hands to replace them, before Oliver took them from him and performed the all-too-familiar spell oculus reparo, and placed them gently on his face.
"We're the ones who're supposed to get into scraps, Perce!"
Percy recognised the familiar voice of George – definitely not Fred.
"Yeah. This is so unlike you. I don't know whether to be worried or proud!"
That was Fred. Percy closed his eyes against the pain in every molecule of his being, and coughed harshly.
"I'm fine," he said, and attempted to shrug off his brothers' grasps, though simply created more pain in the process.
"Percy, don't be an idiot. You're a mess," Oliver said. "What happened?"
"N-nothing. I did something stupid and I got what I deserved."
"What did you do, blow up Dumbledore's office?" George asked. "Wait – keep a note of that, Fred. Sounds like a good pre-NEWT prank."
"Right-o, bro," Fred said. "We heard from a first-year that you socked Ernie Dickson in the face just as we got out of Quidditch practice. It's all round the school. Is it right?"
"It d-doesn't matter what I did. It was wrong."
"Blimey, I wish it had've been me. He's an arrogant twit," George said. "Oh, by the way, here's your wand. Fred found it down on the ground. Lucky, eh?"
Fred handed Percy the slim wand; Percy nodded his thanks.
"Clearly we've underestimated you, Perce," Fred added.
"All right, enough you two," Oliver said sharply. "Come on, Percy. Let's get you cleaned up."
The three helped Percy up, and Oliver pinned the twins with a knowing look.
"Show us the quickest and least-travelled way back to Gryffindor tower," he said. "I know you two know more secret passageways than anyone else in the school.
Fred and George exchanged a part-proud-part-pleased look. George placed one of Percy's arms over his shoulder, and Oliver took the other.
"Lead on, brother!" George said.
"Tally-ho!"
Fred strode back through the door of the astronomy tower. George thought he heard Percy mutter something like 'twits' underneath his breath, but decided to let it slide...for now.
Percy gingerly laid down on his bed, and sighed loudly when he stopped moving, and thus stopped exacerbating his wounds. Oliver approached the side of the bed and placed a textbook he had charmed to be ice-cold against Percy's most prominent black eye in lieu of real ice. He dragged the chair from the desk between their beds closer and sat down, shaking his head. They were the only ones in the dormitory.
"You're really something, Percy," he said. "You run around all day enforcing the rules, and then turn around and smack someone."
"Don't remind me..." Percy groaned, and reached up to take hold of the textbook from Oliver.
"Do you want to tell me what it was all about now?"
Percy pursed his broken lips together and remained silent, before eventually sighing again and closing his eyes.
"He was insulting my family," he said. "Saying Ron was acting as some kind of...sexual service for Harry Potter, and that was all Weasleys were good for. Saying...saying that I had no friends. He didn't know I was there, but I just had to shut him up. Talking all of that nonsense. It just got up my nose."
"He's like that with everyone," Oliver said. "I don't think he'll have too much sympathy. I'm sure you're not the only one who wanted to punch him – just the first to actually do it."
"It was still wrong, though," Percy said, adjusting the textbook to take its sharp corner out of his eye. "It's all over for me now. McGonagall will be here any moment to take away my prefect badge. And I have no chance of being Head Boy now... It's over."
Oliver laughed loudly and went to clap Percy's shoulder, but stopped short when he realized he would probably just cause further pain.
"Don't be so stupid," he said. "Ernest won't say anything. Any teacher worth their salt would make the link between a punch in the face and a subsequent beating. He's not going to want to tarnish his reputation anyway. Not that I think things like that should matter so much. Quidditch, on the other hand..." He shook his head, and placed his hand on Percy's shoulder as gently as possible. "Look, don't worry about it. Anything anyone says will just seem like a rumour. I mean, it doesn't exactly sound like something you would do."
Percy snorted and opened his eyes again.
"No, it most certainly doesn't. In fact, if it weren't for this multiplicity of bruises, I might not believe it myself."
Oliver chuckled, and patted Percy's shoulder lightly.
"I have some of Pomfrey's stuff here that should help. She gave me a tub of Bruise Reducer because she said she didn't want to see any more Quidditch injuries. Can't bear it. Loves me, she does."
Percy chuckled, but regretted it as pain shot through his ribs. Oliver rose and took the tub from his trunk, and set it on the bedside table beside Percy.
"Don't listen to anything that Ernie Dickson says. 'You don't have friends'. Sure, you've got me. Now, will I stick this stuff on you, or shall I go get that Ravenclaw you like. Who'd you call her? Penelope? One second thoughts, it had better be me. Ravenclaw loyalty and all that..."
Percy chuckled again, but this time, the pain seemed much, much less.